Stinky's Girlfriend
by amythestblade
Summary: It's pretty simple really; it's just the episode "Helga's Boyfriend" from a slightly different perspective... mostly.
1. Introductions

Author's notes: Okay, so while this is not the first fanfic I've ever WRITTEN, it is the first one I've ever published, so I have no idea if I'm doing this right or not. _*nervous laughter*_ Anyway, this story has been floating around in my head for awhile, and recently one of the Writing Challenges at the **HA!SaveTJM** facebook group happened to cover the basic plot idea pretty well, so I thought I'd go ahead and try to get it OUT of my head.

Craig Bartlett, Nickelodeon and Viacom own _"Hey Arnold!"_ I had nothing to do with it. Seriously, you can't prove anything. :D

**_Stinky's Girlfriend_**

**_Introductions_**

The small girl lay crumpled on the dark wooden floor. Strands of her long blonde hair caught in the rough, splintered timbers and pulled painfully as she stirred, sitting up stiffly and rubbing the back of her neck.

"What… what happened? Where am I?" She looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of a large group of strangers circling her. "Who are you?"

One of the group, a tall boy who seemed to be about her own age, stepped forward, rubbing his arm nervously. "Uh… hi. We… we brought you here. I don't… suppose you _remember_ anything, do ya?"

She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped and frowned slightly as she realized that, no, she didn't remember _anything_. Not even her own name. "I… have I got amnesia?" she gulped.

Another member of the group stepped forward to join the boy. He was an older man, and resembled the boy greatly. Surveying her observers, she noticed there was a strong resemblance among them all, despite being of various ages and builds. Her attention was dragged back to the elder man as he knelt before her and spoke gently. "Well, you see… not really. The reason you don't have any memories is because… well, darlin', you _ARE_ a memory."

Her wide blue eyes blinked slowly. After a moment she shook her head disbelievingly. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

The man sighed heavily as he stood back up, bracing himself against his own knees as he straightened. He turned to the boy. "Well go on, son. She's your responsibility now."

The boy gulped and nodded sheepishly. He took another step forward, dragging his feet through the black and white markings she only now noticed forming a circle on the floor and badly smudging several of them. Once he'd destroyed them to his satisfaction, he took a deep breath and approached her nervously. He was blushing slightly and clearly embarrassed about something, but he courteously held out a hand to help her stand. "Um, yeah…" he scratched the back of his neck and cringed, as if expecting her to yell at him or something. "It's… well, it's kinda my fault we had to bring you out like this. But honestly, I _swear_ I didn't mean for it to happen. It's all just a big unfortunate string of coincidences, ya know?"

She frowned down at her hand still clasped in his, then looked up to meet his worried gaze. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

He gave her a half-hearted smile as the other people in the room filed out through a nearby door. "Come on with me into the kitchen and I'll try and explain everything. It's a _LONG_ story and it's already way past dinner time."

As he led her away from the circle, he laced his fingers with hers and gave her another nervous grin. "My name's Stinky. Stinky Peterson. And you…" he laughed slightly, even as his blushed darkened. "Well, you don't know me, but… you're kinda my girlfriend."


	2. Incipere

A/N: Decided to go ahead and post Chapter 2 while I'm still figuring out how this thing works. Sorry the chapters are so short but 1 and 2 are basically tests. Also Stinky's dialogue is a bit hard to write. It's all "Accent-accent-homespun saying-$10 vocabulary word". XP

So anyway, now who wants to play "Spot the Reference"? XD

I own nothing; don't know why you keep asking me.

* * *

**_Chapter 2_**

**_Incipere_**

I walked her into the kitchen and we sat down at the table while Aunt Stinky got us a couple of glasses of lemon-fish juice. Even though we got a lot of relatives living under one roof, dinners are usually pretty quiet here. None of us Petersons are really "talkers", ya know? We all tend to be pretty laconic. So I was not really looking forward to this yarn I'm about to spin. It's… long and complicated and parts of it don't make any kind of dang sense even if you _KNOW_ what's going on, and really I don't have the slightest idea.

I looked her in the eye and couldn't help wincing. She looked the same, but… _not_ the same. And to explain this all properly I was gonna have to tell her… _everything_. Just _EVERYTHING_.

I didn't even know where to _start_, so I just opened my mouth and started talking…

* * *

It all started on a perfectly nice ordinary day, which was really not fair at all. I mean some _warning_ would've been nice. Crazy prophetic dreams never come when you actually _NEED_ 'em, ya know? "Build it and they will come. Oh, and try not to accidently destroy the balance of the universe. Watch out for that."

Okay, I guess I should give you a little exposition, huh? Well, we live in a town called Hillwood, and it… it ain't exactly NORMAL, if you know what I mean. Not so much you'd tell right way, but once you've been here awhile and took a good look around, yeah… it's pretty clear…

There's a comic book I read once, about this girl who was sort of a goddess. Only she didn't KNOW it and her friends all had to run themselves ragged trying to keep her from finding out, in case she decided to chuck reality out the window and start all over again.

That's… SORT of what's going on here. Only not exactly. The truth is I really don't think any one of us really knows _exactly_ what it is we've got on our hands here.

Okay, before I just confuse you even further let me get on with the story. There's a boy here in town who's practically the center of our universe, and a girl who's so all-fired head-over-heels in love with him that he basically _IS_. The center, I mean.

Their names are Arnold and Helga.


	3. Legends

**_A/N:_**Sorry, I forgot to do the author's notes earlier. And I've got reviews! Awesome!

Nep2uune: You're mostly right. Not entirely, but mostly.

Paradoxal Reality: Oh my god I can't believe I did this, what the hell was I thinking? And yes, yes it is. XD

BettyAwesome715: Thank you! I don't know if I'd call it "great" though... ^^;

Standard disclaimer applies. Carry on.

* * *

**_Chapter 3_**

**_Legends_**

_Arnold… and Helga…_

That… that definitely sounded familiar…

Unfortunately she lost her train of thought as Stinky continued his story. As he described events bits and pieces of the narrative would trigger feelings of déjà vu, and she decided to simply sit back and see what developed while the slight state of shock she seemed to be in wore off.

"It all started about a week or so ago at lunch. Helga came stomping up to my table out of a clear blue sky and started propositioning me, offering to pay me candy bars to be her boyfriend. Just completely out of the blue, no reason for it. None she was willing to give me, anyway."

She was rather taken aback as he suddenly went into full-on rant mode; clearly some rather intense feelings had been building up for a while here."See, she is completely nuts over that boy Arnold. You know it, I know it and the whole dang 4th grade knows it. Even Arnold knows it, except he don't _KNOW_ he knows it. No, he just has weird dreams about her and can hear her call his name from halfway across town (Heck, even _I_ could barely hear her and as far as we can tell, except for the whole 'center of the universe' thing Arnold's a normal human) and he's constantly worrying about how she is and where she is and-" he threw his hands into the air in exasperation "Gee whillikers _wake up_ already Arnold! I mean, even the law of gravity is trying to throw these two kids together! I have _LITERALLY_ lost count of the number of times I've seen those two randomly turn a corner and plow into each other! I bet ya Phoebe knows; she's got a whole notebook full of them kind of statistics and numbers and whatnot."

"Phoebe?" the girl asked suddenly. "She's… a little black-haired girl? With glasses, right?"

Stinky looked at her, surprised but seemingly pleased as well. "Yeah, that's right! You remember?"

She frowned, confused. Something about his smile was… _off_. "A little bit, but… not really. Kind of the way you remember dreams; just little bits and pieces. Arnold and Helga, and Phoebe… I don't… I don't really remember who they _are_, but I do remember… that they're important."

A spark of anger finally broke through her confusion and she glared at him. "Look, why don't I remember anything else? Who am I and what happened to me?"

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, once again scratching himself nervously. "I'm sorry, it's just… difficult to explain, is all. There's so much stuff I don't know where to start, and it's… well, it's… to tell the truth it all sounds kinda made up, like a bad urban legend or something, you know? And the fact that it is real doesn't make it make any more sense."

She tilted her head and studied him . "You're stalling, aren't you? Just tell me, Stinky."

He gave her that nervous grin again, and again she was struck by the feeling that something wasn't right… "You remember earlier Dad said you didn't have memories because… you _are_ a memory? He wasn't being metaphorical or anything; you're a figment."

She blinked. "I'm a piece of something?"

"Nah, you're thinking of 'fragment'. A _figment_ is a memory or an idea that's… made real. Brought to life." He chuckled slightly and she found her attention pulled back to his smile again.

Suddenly several things he'd mentioned earlier seemed to click together inside her mind. "Stinky, what… what are _you_, exactly?"

He coughed into his hand and grinned awkwardly. "Well… like I was saying, things tend to… _happen_ in Hillwood. People pass around stories and… all of a sudden they'll be _true_. All kinds of legends that normally people would scoff at… here there's a really, _really_ good chance it's gospel truth. And… we don't know for sure what's causing it or who's behind it. It's most likely Arnold or Helga; they're the ones it tends to happen around the most. Another popular theory is that it's the two of them _together_ that's causing it, and maybe it wouldn't happen if one or the other of them... wasn't around. But it could also be Gerald, what with the whole "Keeper of the Tales" thing, but he gets most of his stories from Fuzzy Slippers, and it probably _ain't _him considering… well, who Fuzzy _is_."

He considered a moment then sighed heavily. "Sorry, I got off on a tangent again. So yeah, Hillwood's got heroes and monsters and all kinds of urban legends that turn out to be true. Secret societies, ghost and hauntings –lots of ghosts, just ask Brainy…"

He shrugged and directed yet another wide grin at her. This time there was no mistake; she clearly saw it happen. His teeth, specifically his eyeteeth, were slowly growing right before her eyes.

"And," he sighed, his tired voice at odds with the fang-displaying grin, "we got vampires."


End file.
